Tonight I am grateful for the shattered pottery of my aching heart. I’m grateful for the way I can see the plates with funky glaze and flowers and geometric designs, broken on a floor somewhere deep in my psyche, mirroring the fragmented feeling I’m in.

I am grateful for more surprises, more news, more things to feel betrayed about… because apparently I love to feel betrayed. I am grateful for the axiom of having is evidence of wanting and how quickly it clicks in when old tapes start to play about how much I hate something that is right in front of my face.

I am grateful to lean into my sense of victimhood, of being a pawn, of being helpless and hopeless, of being interdependent with fuckers and fuckos… I am grateful to simultaneously feel my intense belief in everything being a mirror.

I am grateful not to feel too too mindfucked right now. I am grateful I let myself swear. I am grateful to cry and nap and shower and cry and feel all the movement that threatens to go stagnant in my ability to conceptualizer feeling and bypass the actual feeling part.

I am grateful to have signed up for a seven day breast massage workshop where the questions are so perfect for right now bringing me back to my senses, my body, my enormous capacity to feel and be.

I am grateful for my friend who ALWAYS has the perfect GiF for every moment.

I am grateful to share my work with others and be received. I am grateful for awesome ideas and collaborators and how rawness becomes refined over time.